


Pro Nobis Solum

by CarelessHux (AraSigyrn)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Darth Tantrum and his Evil Space Ginger, Established Relationship, M/M, Praetorian!AU, post tfa au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:54:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22471423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraSigyrn/pseuds/CarelessHux
Summary: Kylo Ren wakes after Starkiller.  Alone.AU after the fall of Starkiller.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 15
Kudos: 224





	Pro Nobis Solum

Kylo Ren wakes after Starkiller. Alone.

Not prosaically; Major Kelley, the _Finalizer_ 's CMO supervises the team that remove him from the bacta tank: one of his Knights waits in the halls for his orders and there is a pale, nervous enseign with a data-pad full of updates. His first thought is that Hux must have been injured. His memories are hazy and disjointed but he remembers the cut of the General's cheek, illuminated by the Starkiller's pyre. He looks towards the other tanks and finds them empty.

All he finds of Hux is his greatcoat, across the back of a chair.

Ren is angry. Not entirely at the General, but Hux has served as a proxy for his rage for months now. It is easier to be angry. He cannot be hurt by Hux's absence if he is enraged by it. He does not ask. No-one speaks of Hux.

Ren makes the mistake of assuming it is fear of _him_ that holds their tongues. 

So he does not find out until the next morning that the General is not merely absent. He is gone.

Ren wakes. His dreams evaporate as he rises, leaving only an oddly hollow feeling in the crevices of his mind. For the first time in nearly a year, he does not wake with the memory of his grandfather's lightsaber cutting through a pale throat. He does not wake with the image of Hux’s dead eyes illuminated by haunted blue. He blinks at himself in the mirror and feels the dread roll off his shoulders. He can breathe. The galaxy beyond his door seems suddenly more full of promise.

He dresses and goes to seek out Hux. He intends to apologise. Apologies are a delicate matter between them. Hux is no more willing to admit to hurt than Ren and his pride is a prickly and vicious thing. Apologising to Hux takes care and effort and Ren has had neither to spare in the desperate hunt to find Skywalker and the cursed saber. With all that safely behind them, Ren promises himself that he will take all the care and effort necessary to apologise.

He goes out into the hallways, senses reaching out to sift through the _Finalizer_ 's regimented minds. The First Order's troops are neatly thinking in black and white patterns as uniform and unchanging as its doctrines. Hux has always been an exception, a flare of red-orange-gold brilliance in the static constellation of lesser beings. 

Ren finds nothing but the ever repeating pattern, black and white with the occasional flashes of grey fear and red anger. No solar flare, no sun to illuminate the monotony. Ren spends an hour confirming what the Force has already told him.

Hux is not aboard the _Finalizer_.

He goes to the bridge, seeking answers. The captain is not on the bridge. Ren will find him later, if it is necessary. His target is Lieutenant Mitaka. He towers over the man who cringes away from him in a gratifying manner.

"Where is the General?" Ren demands.

"H-he, that is-" Mitaka babbles, voice cutting off with a squeak as Ren lifts a hand.

"Where. Is. The. General."

"Reassigned!" Mitaka stammers. "The S-s-supreme Leader- He left two days after the evacuation. A shuttle was sent!"

Ren sends the man spinning away with a wave of his hand and sweeps out of the bridge. He returns to his quarters and his com. The security system in _Finalizer_ is entirely his to command and it takes almost no time to bring up the records he wants. 

The evacuation is chaos: troopers running everywhere, officers screaming contradictory orders, every feed is filled with desperation and anarchy. Until the Upsilon arrives. Ren watches as Hux disembarks, keeping pace with the four troopers carrying the stretcher. Order ripples out from the General, spreading like a wave through subordinates as Hux imposes his will on the anarchy.

Ren watches the medical staff carry him to the bacta tank while Hux supervises from his place by the door as officers flutter around him, awaiting his orders. He lingers on the General's face, pale and resolute. Ren allows himself to feel satisfaction at how Hux's pale eyes never leave the tank even as he brings the confusion of the evacuation to heel.

For hours, nothing changes. Ren's body floats, Hux watches him and the officers come and receive their orders. It is only as the exhausted ship sinks into delta shift that Ren sees an aberration. The officer who comes is limping and Hux turns to face them. His lips purse before he visibly blanks his face. He looks at Ren's floating form and turns sharply to leave.

Ren tracks his progress to the holochamber. Hux is inside for nearly thirty minutes. Ren shifts in his seat, disquieted. The Supreme Leader has not held an audience longer than ten minutes for nearly two years. He is relieved to see Hux emerge, then immediately concerned. Hux is pale, almost the colour of the waiting troopers' armour and his hands flex into and out of fists as he breathes for a moment.

From there, Hux goes to the bridge, his office and back to the medical bay. He gives the orders to delegate his command, locks away the files that are not for lower-ranked eyes and finally, he comes to the medical bay. He addresses Doctor Kelley.

"The Supreme Leader requires an up-to-date report," Hux says crisply.

"Of course, sir," Dr Kelley salutes, "if you will excuse me for a moment."

Hux nods and the doctor leaves the room. Ren watches as Hux turns back to the tank. There is no-one else visible in the room and Hux takes off his greatcoat, draping it over the chair as he unfastens the glove on one hand. The sudden flash of pale skin is obscene, seen under the full-strength lights and Ren's breath catches as Hux touches the transparisteel that separates them. He curses to himself when the doctor re-enters and Hux pulls the glove back on before turning to face her.

The doctor hands over a flimsi and Hux nods.

"I leave him to your expert care, doctor."

"Yes, sir," Dr. Kelley salutes and Hux leaves.

He goes directly to the hanger, where a shuttle is waiting and two of Snoke's Praetorians are waiting on the ramp. The troopers in the hangar are uneasy and snap to attention as Hux enters with his data-pad and the flimsi from the Doctor. The Praetorians move, coming to flank Hux as if he is a prisoner.

Hux raises his chin and strides forward, proud as ever.

He enters the shuttle. The ramp retracts on the heels of his escort. The shuttle lifts up and flies out of the hanger.

And that is all.

Hux never commed, never sent orders or directives. Ren can confirm that the shuttle reached the Supreme Leader intact. There are no security feeds that he can access on the _Supremacy_. 

Ren holds his control by the barest fingertip; his master will summon him and Ren will know. He needs to wait. He must be patient. His master will know where Hux is. His master will know how Hux fares.

On the third day after his waking, Ren is summoned to the holochamber. His master gives orders; hunt the Resistance, hunt the _girl_ and kill any enemy who impedes him. Ren bows and dares to open his mouth.

"The General-"

"-is of no concern to the First Order," Snoke's displeasure hisses against his mind. "A failure. Unworthy. Forget him."

Ren's breath catches in his chest, his master's power contracting around his lungs.

"Find the girl," his master commands and the holo cuts out.

Ren leaves the chamber and his sabre comes to his hand. He destroys the hallway, the consoles and the adjoining rooms before his rage recedes enough to let him think. He must think, Ren decides.

* * *

Ren meditates in his shuttle in the comforting void of hyperspace. His mission has been successful. The information he was sent to retrieve is sitting on the console, blood dripping to the floor. The _Upsilon_ vibrates around him. The engineering team has been less efficient without Hux to oversee them.

Alone, in his shuttle, Ren lets his mind turn to his General.

Snoke has ordered Hux's erasure. No member of the First Order speaks his name. But Ren grows more powerful in the Force by the day and no thought on the _Finalizer_ is secret from him now. Possibly he should be reporting these thoughts to the Supreme Leader but he has not.

The troopers think of Hux frequently. Discipline and clarity have suffered since his removal and the troopers have borne the brunt of it. They feared Hux, yes but they respected him. His replacements, five as of this passing cycle, have failed to inspire the troopers.

The bridge officers are more circumspect but Ren has taken to observing the failures of Snoke's toadies in person. He thinks that Hux might have been proud. Lieutenant Unamo is particularly adept at saying one thing while conveying contempt via the inflections in her tone. Lieutenant Mitaka, who had Hux's schedule and preferences memorized to better anticipate the General's orders, has never managed so much as a correct cup of kaf for any of the fools.

Ren shares their contempt. His loss is more profound. 

Hux _understood_ him. Hux had always been the complement to Ren's skills. Cold control against Ren's fiery temper. Analytical where Ren is intuitive. Methodical where Ren is guided by impulse. Hux respected Ren's crusade against his past. He had never cared for the Force, happy to leave it in Ren's hands. It had become a problem in the months before Starkiller's completion when Ren's visions tormented him every night.

Ren exhales.

He is alone, secure from Snoke's intrusions and he allows his mind to turn to a treasured memory. During the fabrication of the Starkiller, they had shared quarters. A necessary economy, as far as the First Order was concerned.

He breathes in, remembers the light through the window and how it had turned Hux's hair to fire. Ren had woken first, as he often did in those days. Hux had been sleeping, the softness under his uniform on full display. Ren had traced the thin blue lines of his veins, tasted the salt of his skin and drawn pink blushes the colours of the sunrise to the surface.

Hux had woken eventually, turning Ren's admiration into something hotter and more feral. He replays the memory, flexing his fingers. The rough leather is nothing like Hux's skin. He remembers after, Hux drinking kaf and smiling at him with his uniform shirt still unbuttoned and his hair loose around his face.

The nav-com beeps, jarring him out of the memory and Ren snarls. His shuttle comes out of hyperspace and his com starts to beep, filling with inane messages from General Pryde and his staff. Snoke's new puppet is rapidly starting to wear out his tolerance.

A voice that sounds very like Hux's whispers in the back of his mind that Snoke is likewise wearing out his tolerance.

* * *

The girl flees and Ren turns his rage on the Praetorian Guards who swarm the throne room. The Force crackles and snaps around him as the vacuum left by Snoke's death tears asunder the delicate balance of Light and Dark. It is easy to turn his rage into violence when there is a target before him.

The world narrows to the snap of electrical charge, the clatter of weapons and garish red armour. He loses himself in the rush of combat. It is messy and brutal and leaves Ren slumped on the too slick floor amid the dead. 

His former Master's death reverberates through the Force, screaming like a dying soul. The intricate web of influence and power that let Snoke dominate the First Order collapsing in on itself. Ren could exert his will. He could attempt to wrest control from Snoke's dead hands.

Ren doesn't want the Order. The girl's offer, his mother's hand extended, none of it.

Let the Order fall. Let the Galaxy fall into ruin.

Ren has no desire to save a Galaxy that does not contain his General.

The rasp of armour against stone brings his head up. One of the guards, off to the side where the girl had been, is moving. Slow and pained. Ren watches. A tiny part of his mind admires the determination. Most of his mind is empty.

He pushes himself to one knee. The guard is slowly dragging its arms closer. Ren reaches for his sabre. The throne room is shuddering with the unravelling tendrils of the Force. Ren can feel the yawning void tugging at him. He ignites the sabre, pushing himself to his feet.

The guard levers themselves up. The breastplate, shattered and scored, comes away in chunks that rattle against the floor. Ren moves forward, drawing back his sabre. A splintered lance lies just beyond the guard's bloody hands. Ren reaches for the Force, fumbling through the chaos.

But the guard doesn't reach for the weapon. Instead, it clenches its right hand and clasps it to the chest. A salute. As Hux had saluted him, so long ago, waiting for Ren to finish prying the information from the pilot. Guilt makes Ren falter, sabre spitting in his hand, long enough for the kneeling figure to raise its head and rasp "Long...live the S-Supreme Leader."

The Force goes still around him but Ren barely notices. The voice, thin and weak, rings in his ears.

He knows that voice.

He _knows_ that voice.

Weak, pained; he knows that _voice_.

He drops his sabre, lunging to catch the falling form. The body in his arms is slack but as Ren tears at the shattered helmet, familiar red hair falls loose in a soft wave. When Ren brushes it aside, prying apart the twisted visor, the pale face underneath is heart stoppingly familiar.

"Hux," Ren's voice is thick in his throat.

He tears at the armour, feeling the Force-dulling effect fade as it falls away. Hux's presence, muted and bruised, seeps back into the empty echoing spaces in his mind. It feels like the first clean breath of air. Blood stains Hux's lips and his breath rattles through his chest.

Ren gathers him close, thrilling in the living heat of his body. 

Around them, the Force sings and Ren can hear the cadence of boots, the hum and vigour of First Order. Snoke's great web, no longer unravelling but winding around Ren's presence. He can almost feel the reins in his hands. It is heady.

Then Hux shudders and his body jolts.

His Force presence flickers and terror sweeps Ren's elation away. He lurches up to his feet, Hux a barely there weight in his arms. He calls Snoke's cloak to him, bundles it around Hux and tries not to notice how quickly red bleeds through the gold. The doors slam open as he runs for them.

The medical bay adjacent to the throne room is overflowing with casualties. Ren weaves through the swirling chaos. The doctors are too busy to notice his entrance. Medical droids, interspersed with hastily repurposed interrogation droids, triage the endless tide of casualties. The Force sighs with despair, pain and misery crackling like lightning through the fog.

Ren pays it no attention at all. He goes for the closed doors of the private rooms at the back of the bay. An effortless brush of the Force and the lock snaps. The door opens and Ren sweeps inside. An older man, with Major stripes on his sleeve and blood leaking from his nose, is sitting on the cot with three doctors fussing around him. 

"Leave." Ren orders.

"How dare-?!" the Major sputters. Ren seizes his trachea and tosses him towards the doors.

" _Leave_." He sets his precious burden on the cot as delicately as he can. The Major scrabbles across the floor, half-crawling/half-falling through the door. Ren turns his gaze to the doctors. "Heal him."

The closest doctor raises his hands, face creasing into an imperious expression. "I hardly think-"

Ren closes a vice around the fool's throat. "Save him. You will save his life, whatever it takes —whatever it _costs_ — or your death will be an overdue act of mercy."

"Yes-yes!" The doctor's eyes blank for a moment and Ren feels the shiver of compulsion through the Force. "As you command, Supreme Leader!"

Ren retreats only as far as he must to allow them to work. One of the doctors cuts away Snoke's bloodstained cloak, then the last of the armour and finally the red robe. Another is calling for droids while the third hooks up the medical scanner.

The display flickers, red and amber notifications flashing. The doctors shout at each other and the droids. Whenever one of them makes accidental eye-contact with Ren, they flinch. Ren keeps his eyes on Hux's face and his mental grip on Hux's wavering Force Presence tight. Droids buzz past him, trailing bandages and suture thread.

Hux's pulse is the first thing to stabilize, the uneven beeping steadying into a more familiar cadence. Ren has always thought Hux's heartbeat sounds like a military march. Fit for a triumph. The relief from the doctors floods the Force and their frenetic energy steadies. A surgical droid approaches the cot, spider-leg appendages extending as the junior doctor mops blood from Hux's too-pale skin.

A thunderstorm of bruises appears underneath the blood and ash; fresh blue, dark purple and rotten brown. Ren notes every mark and injury. His hands curl into fists and the surgical instruments rattle in their trays. The doctors cower away from him.

The door hisses open as an officer hurries in. Ren catches her by the neck before she can take more than a step into the room. Her boots squeak against the floor and her voice comes out in a gasp.

"S-Supreme Leader!" Ren angles his head, releasing the Force-hold on her throat enough that she can speak. "General Pryde, sir! The General!"

Irritated, Ren lifts his hand. The officer — a Captain by her stripes — gulps and her words spill out. "The Resistance, sir! Our scans show a high concentration of their forces on the planet below! General Pryde has assembled a strike force and is ready to launch the assault. He awaits your order, Supreme Leader!"

Ren almost sends her away. He has more important things to concern himself with than his mother's ragtag band of partisans and criminals. The Resistance is a vestige of the Republic. The dying rattle of a corrupt and diseased regime. Then, as the doctors carefully peel seared fabric back from Hux's side, he sees it. A light saber slash. The girl's work.

Ren narrows his eyes, rage bubbling up again. The Resistance is no threat to him but the girl came here. The girl attacked Hux. The girl tried to kill him. Ren might have lost Hux without ever knowing he was there. The girl is a threat.

Ren will end that threat.

"Instruct Pryde to ready the landing craft and await my arrival," he says and drops her.

"At once, Supreme Leader!" she salutes and bolts back through the door.

Ren looks back at Hux. The General is still deeply unconscious, more of his skin disappearing under bandages and bacta-patches. He steps forward, doctors yielding the space beside the cot. Hux is wearing an oxygen mask so Ren presses his lips to Hux's forehead, just above the bacta strip.

"I will be back," he promises. Silently, through the Force, he adds _Wait for me. Be here when I return._

He straightens and turns. A whisper across the Force stops him. A thought. One of the doctors' thoughts. Underneath the compulsion, a private thought that Ren had nearly missed. _Hux in his uniform, dressing down an officer and the feel of a scalpel in tightening fingers._

The man hits the wall so hard that his spine shatters. The remaining doctors freeze until an alarm on the mediscanner jolts them back to life. Ren straightens and looks around. The remaining doctors are desperately working on Hux, terror underlying every thought. 

He cannot leave Hux unguarded. He must see the Resistance broken. The two desires clash in his chest and his mind fills with rage at the universe for being so disorganized. As he hesitates, on the precipice of fury, his answer arrives; limping through the door to the main medical bay with two of her troopers as crutches.

"Captain Phasma," Ren projects his voice through the Force and sees her jerk to attention. She frees herself from her supports and limps to the open door of the private room. Her helmet is missing and blood trickles down the side of her face. She enters with her head held high and as Ren turns to her, her eyes flick past him and down.

The surge of disbelief/elation makes his lips twitch.

"Captain."

"Yes, Supreme Leader."

"I must oversee the extermination of the Resistance," Ren says. "You are to see to the General's safety until I return."

"Yes, Supreme Leader."

"I am putting my trust in you." Ren inclines his head as the Captain straightens another inch. "You have full authority to issue any orders you deem necessary to achieve your aims."

"I will not fail you, Supreme Leader." Phasma's fist strikes her chest. 

"See that you don't," Ren allows himself one final glance at Hux, motionless and pale, before he goes. The last thing he sees before the doors to the medical bay close is Phasma commandeering a blaster from a trooper.

* * *

Ren returns to the _Supremacy_ with General Pryde's blustering excuses in his wake. He dismisses the man with orders to present himself, along with the rest of High Command for a debriefing once the rescue efforts have been completed. He gives a few more mundane orders to keep the lower ranks busy.

Finally he returns to the medical bay, now surrounded by lines of stretchers. The miasma of pain and despair hangs in the Force. Ren sweeps by the casualties and into the private room.

The room is empty.

There are droids, some lesser ranked doctors sorting through supplies but the cot where he left Hux is empty. Ren stops dead in his tracks. Blind, animal panic claws up his spine and he reaches out through the Force.

"Supreme Leader," one of the droids rotates to look at him. "I was directed to inform you that the patient is stable."

"Where is he?!"

"Captain Phasma transferred them to the _Finalizer_ , sir. Medical supplies have been limited by the damage the _Supremacy_ sustained and the Captain felt it would be best for them to recuperate elsewhere."

"I see." Ren knows that the _Finalizer_ is stationed off the port side of the _Supremacy_. He turns his head, as if he could somehow see through the durasteel and space, and reaches. Hux's Force Presence is still weak, barely a flicker of what it was but it is there. "Continue with your work."

"Yes, Supreme Leader."

Ren returns to the shuttle bay and boards the _Upsilon_. The _Finalizer_ is only a short flight away. It is late in delta shift but Lieutenant Unamo and Mitaka are waiting for him. Ren waves away their greetings, feeling Hux's Force Presence like a guiding light.

An idle thought stops him and he looks back at Hux's lieutenants.

"Lieutenants."

"Yes, Supreme Leader?"

"The _Finalizer_ has been ...adequate. I expect better. See that the ship is set to rights."

"Yes?" Unamo salutes. "Yes, Supreme Leader!"

Ren sweeps out of the bay, satisfied that Hux's ship will be to his standards when he is ready to inspect it. He forgets it as soon as the lift doors open and he hurries down the corridor to the medical bay. Just over half of the cots in the main ward are occupied with injured personnel but Ren's attention is fixed on the door to the bacta room. 

Phasma, wearing a patchwork of armour in place of her shattered chrome, is standing in front of the door. Her wounds have been dressed and one eye is covered by a patch but her presence in the Force thrums with purpose. Her blaster comes up as the doors hiss open, only to immediately dip as she recognizes him.

"Captain," Ren inclines his head.

"Supreme Leader," she dips her head, stepping aside. "I will inform Doctor Kelley that you have returned."

Ren does not bother to answer, stepping through to find Hux suspended in the bacta tank that Ren had woken in what feels like a lifetime ago. Ren stares at him. It still feels surreal; like a nightmare but pleasurable.

The door hisses behind him and Ren turns to look at Doctor Kelley.

"Supreme Leader," she salutes crisply.

"Doctor," Ren glances at her.

"I have the preliminary report on General Hux's condition," she looks down at her data-pad. "Speaking as his personal physician, I can confirm that this is indeed General Hux, not a clone or an imposter."

Ren hums. He knows his General's mind.

"We have successfully treated the most critical injuries and the trauma resultant from recent combat." Doctor Kelley thumbs through the screens. "I recommend that the General continue bacta-immersion for at least the next ten hours to reduce the risk of complications."

"Very well," Ren itches to touch Hux but it is sufficient —for the moment— to have Hux where Ren can see him.

"Regarding the General's additional injuries," Doctor Kelley continues.

"Additional injuries?"

"General Hux has extensive soft tissue trauma, multiple fractures, particularly in his hands, contusions and improperly treated burns that are consistent with blaster fire." Doctor Kelley deactivates her datapad, folding her hands behind her back. "Additionally, he shows signs of exhaustion, dehydration and malnutrition. It is my considered opinion, Supreme Leader, that General Hux has been subject to torture."

Ren's hand curls into a fist. The vials rattle in their trays. Doctor Kelley flicks a brief glance at them before returning her attention to Ren.

"Consequently, Supreme Leader, my recommendation is that General Hux be placed on restricted duties until he has fully recovered."

"Yes. Fine." Ren exhales. "Who knows the General is in the medical bay?"

Doctor Kelley does not blink. "Myself, Captain Phasma, troopers FN8451 and RT9925. My reports have been filed on the medical system rather than the network proper. We thought it best to keep the General intubated for his transfer from the _Supremacy_."

Ren blinks before her meaning sinks in. A full oxygen mask would have obscured Hux's face from the security feeds. He relaxes, fractionally.

"I will monitor the General's vitals from my office," Doctor Kelley dips her head, "if you would prefer not to be disturbed?"

"Yes, thank you, Doctor."

"I will leave a copy of my report with you, should you wish to read it." Doctor Kelley sets her data-pad on the spare cot.

Ren turns back to Hux, hearing the door close behind her. He presses his hand to the smooth curve of the bacta tank, watching Hux's chest rise and fall. He reaches out through the Force for the simple pleasure of feeling Hux's mind.

He presses his palm against the panel. He can feel the faintest vibration through the transparisteel. Hux looks like something out of a Core World gallery, the fading bruises dappling his skin and his hair dark from the moisture. 

_...can hear you..._

Ren's head jerks up. Dimly, through the murky bacta, he can see Hux's eye slitted open. Ren doesn't try to hide the smile that spreads across his face and Hux's mental snort is nearly audible. He leans closer to the tank, letting his joy spill over into Hux's mind.

Hux closes his eye, a tangle of emotion that feels like a scoff flashing through the connection. Ren can feel the barbs of Snoke's fading compulsion like snarls in the fabric of Hux's mind. A possessive fury surges in his gut and he presses his hand against the tank.

 _May I enter your mind?_ he projects at Hux.

Hux's visible eye opens slowly and Ren can feel his weary confusion. _you're..in... head_

 _There is damage,_ Ren thinks. _May I enter your mind?_

Hux blinks sluggishly. Exhaustion is clouding his mind. _you're..Supreme..don't need my...can just..._

 _Yes,_ Ren thinks. Hux's mental defences have been deliberately compromised. More so than the typical First Order officer, more than they had been before Snoke stole him. Nevertheless. _May I enter your mind?_

Even through the fog of exhaustion, Ren can feel Hux's mind analyzing and assessing. There is a slight lag, then Hux's eye closes and a wordless assent floods their connection. 

_Rest,_ Ren projects. Hux's mind loses focus and Ren sinks his awareness into his General's mind.

Snoke's controls, crude and brutal, are like foreign matter and Hux's mind feels inflamed and raw where they have sunk in. Ren teases apart each snarl of thought and emotion, smoothing out the damage. He can feel Hux's memories but does not dip into them. His rage at what Snoke attempted to do to Hux is a hot and furious thing but there is no target for it here. Better to wait.

Instead, he savours the gradual return of Hux's familiar mental patterns. He winds himself into the frayed edges of Hux's mind, integrating his awareness so tightly that Hux will never be free of him. Nothing and no-one will take Hux from him again. 

Doctor Kelley enters the room twice while Ren works. Both times alone. Both times, she steps into the room just far enough to allow the door to close, then waits with her hands clasped behind her until Ren acknowledges her. Then she inspects the readouts of the machines monitoring Hux's condition, makes some notes on her data-pad and leaves.

The third time she comes back, she finishes her checks but does not depart. Ren opens his eyes to find her standing at attention to his left. 

"The General's condition has improved, Supreme Leader." Doctor Kelley turns her head to look at Hux. "The General has not, in the past, found prolonged bacta immersion restful and it is my opinion that it would be better for him to attempt natural sleep."

Ren takes a moment to parse the meaning of her words and straightens abruptly. "Sleep in the medical bay?"

"If necessary," Doctor Kelley does not look at him. "However, given his improvement, I am happy to release him to his quarters so long as he is not left alone and someone is present to ensure he eats and does not immediately return to his paperwork."

Ren thinks idly that he is going to have to promote the good doctor, though it will wait until Hux is conscious. "That won't be a problem."

"If you will assist me then, Supreme Leader," Doctor Kelley turns to the control panel, "we should be able to extract the General without additional assistance."

Ren nods, reaching out with the Force even as he gently nudges Hux's mind back towards consciousness. Doctor Kelley turns to the console and the bacta starts to drain from the tank. Ren wraps the Force around Hux even as the General wakes, slow and uneven. Doctor Kelly has turned up the lights and Hux's mental complaint is almost familiar.

Ren smiles even as Hux finds his feet. He is supporting the greater part of Hux's weight through the Force but Hux lifts his chin, every bit as proud as Ren remembers. The transparisteel panels retract and Ren steps forward. It is heady to feel Hux's obstinate heat under his hands. 

The need to explore, to reclaim is a sharp hunger but the medical bay is not private. Doctor Kelley has been commendably discreet; Ren does not consider taking her eyes for seeing Hux so vulnerable for more than a moment. He wants Hux to himself. He is Supreme Leader. His will is law on this ship.

The doctor approaches with loose clothing, dark grey and as soft as any Order-issued garb can be. She does not attempt to dress the General, merely holds the garments until Ren requires them. Hux is still weary down to his bones. He does not verbally object though Ren hears a disgruntled murmur along the edges of his thoughts.

Once Hux is dressed, the doctor fetches the data-pad. "I have updated the report to include my recommendations for nutrition and rest, sir."

"Thank you, Doctor." Hux's voice is rough from disuse. Ren takes the data-pad as he uses the Force to draw his cloak around Hux's shoulders. "Is this really necessary?"

"Word of your return can await the formal announcement," Ren says. _I want you to myself tonight_.

Hux purses his lips but Ren can already feel his acquiescence. "As you command, Supreme Leader."

Ren turns his gaze on the doctor. "Tell no-one of this."

"As you command, Supreme Leader." Doctor Kelley gestures to the data-pad. "In the event that you require medical assistance, I have included my private com channel and disabled the notification of the Medical Bay channel."

"Excellent," Ren loops an arm around Hux's waist. The cloak drapes awkwardly over his shoulder but Ren has no intention of allowing anyone to observe them.

"If I may ask, sirs," Doctor Kelley glances at the door, "if it would be possible to relieve Captain Phasma of her duty very temporarily, to treat her injuries?"

"Yes," Ren says. Hux is blinking, questions warring with exhaustion. "Can she be rendered fit for duty by the time the General has rested?"

"I should think so," Doctor Kelley says.

"Do it."

"As you command, Supreme Leader."

Ren jerks his head in a nod as the door opens. He can feel the pain and exhaustion as dull weight against Phasma's iron will. He doubts the good Captain can feel it; her fierce elation has not dimmed in the hours since he called her to duty. Hux has returned. He can feel her renewed devotion and faith. 

"Captain," he says, "you are relieved. Report to medical immediately."

"Sir."

"I will expect you at your post for alpha shift," Ren says.

She salutes crisply. "As you command, Supreme Leader."

The hallways are empty, or easily rendered so. He can feel the Force threaded through the minds of the 'troopers and technicians; Snoke's web. It takes no effort to redirect them down different corridors. No-one observes them. Hux will not let Ren carry him. He is determined, a solid bedrock of affronted pride that defies his exhaustion.

Hux's quarters are empty. Ren is glad. It would be inconvinent to have to murder an interloper. Messy. Hux would be displeased.

 _damn right_ , Hux thinks at him.

Ren laughs. The sound is strange but Hux looks delighted for a moment. He was — _is_ — always so pleased when Ren shows some sign of being more than merely Snoke's puppet. Hux's mind fairly hums with a selfish thrill of pleasure. Ren thinks that Hux will be pleased more often in the future. He decides he will make Hux pleased in the future.

Hux straightens, taking his own weight and blinks around the empty quarters. There are no signs of occupancy, only small crates by the desk and the 'fresher door. Ren can see uniforms neatly hung and he looks considering at Hux. He is thin, underfed and that is nothing new. The slight curve of muscle in his arms and thickening his chest is.

"Your uniforms will not fit," Ren says thoughtfully.

Hux blinks at him. _I suppose not._

"Shower first," Ren decides.

 _yes, supreme leader._ Hux's thought is sardonic. Ren crosses to the console and taps in a series of commands as Hux weaves his way across the floor. He struggles to free himself from the shirt and nearly knocks into the door. Ren intervenes, catching him with the Force and pulling away the shirt with his hands. Hux's skin is still streaked with bacta and tacky to Ren's hastily bared hands.

Hux half-turns, breath against Ren's cheek. It is as easy as this; the slightest turn of his own head and their lips catch. Hux's breath is stale, lips dry and rough. They fit as if they'd never been parted. Ren crowds into him, hands bruisingly tight and Hux brings an unsteady hand up to twine through Ren's hair.

Ren breaks the kiss when Hux shudders. The hand in his hair is shaking now and Hux's skin is cool against his hands. He guides Hux back, stealing shorter kisses with every step. Hux blinks at him, eyes dark and mind thrumming with a hunger that his body is too weak to express. Ren turns on the water, ignoring Hux's reflexive mental complaint of waste. He strips away his own clothing, searingly aware of Hux's gaze.

Hux reaches out, trails wet fingertips along the scar on his shoulder. Ren freezes. His breath sticks in his chest. Hux is intent, fingers barely shaking as he traces it up. He presses his thumb into the scar that divides Ren's cheek and Ren can read nothing in his mind but curiosity.

He covers Hux's hand with his own and Hux raises his gaze to catch Ren's eyes. His smile is sudden, sharp like a knife's edge. He kisses Ren and it feels like a promise. Ren's shoulders straighten. He kisses Hux back, crowds him under the stinging spray and the hot water.

Hux's mind is hazy with exhaustion. When Ren breaks the kiss to breathe, Hux's eyes flutter and he sways. He blinks slowly at Ren and hides a yawn against Ren's shoulder. Ren smiles at him, impossibly fond. Hux leans into him and hums vaguely as Ren cleans him.

Touching Hux, private in the steam and silence of the 'fresher, feels like decadent luxury. He kisses Hux's skin, tastes the blush of heat and life and presses his tongue against Hux's steady pulse. Hux is half-asleep and his mind thrums against Ren's. He is relaxed, trusting in Ren despite his failure.

Ren vows that he will not let Hux be taken a second time.

He lingers as long as he dares but finally, he turns off the shower. He draws two towels from their storage space with the Force and dries Hux carefully. The bruising is almost completely faded but he counts new scars. He kisses each one, committing them to memory. He will ask about them tomorrow, when Hux is rested and the First Order set to rights.

A chime from the main room announces the arrival of droids. The serving droid sets out plates and dishes on the desk while the tailoring droid rolls to a halt just outside the 'fresher. Hux blinks at it but stands obligingly. He is yawning, blinking wistfully at his bunk and clearly barely registering the droid's presence.

"You must eat," Ren insists when the tailoring droid is finished.

 _sleep_ Hux thinks longingly.

Ren wraps the Force around his hips and steers him to the chair. Hux grumbles mentally but he opens his mouth when Ren holds a morsel of bread to his lips. He is fading, energy expended and body crying out for true sleep. Ren feeds him more than half the plate of food before he stands.

He has to carry Hux to the bed. Hux is almost asleep, only aware of Ren and the absence of others. Ren crawls into the bed beside him as Hux slips back into sleep. He dismisses the droids and dims the lights. Hux prefers complete darkness to sleep but Ren is hungry for the sight of him. He smooths his hands over Hux's skin and winds their limbs together so he can feel Hux's every breath against his own chest.

The Force winds around them, bringing Hux's hazy dreams and letting Ren dispel the nightmares before they can take form. Ren strokes a hand through Hux's hair, so soft with none of his usual pomade and savours the knowledge that no-one else will ever know this. No-one else will ever see how Hux's eyelashes flutter or hear the soft whisper as his head tips forward and he breathes through his nose.

Kylo Ren is Supreme Leader of the First Order, Master of the Galaxy. None remain who have the power or position to threaten what is his. And if such a threat should emerge? Ren will destroy it.

He does not sleep but when the alarm chimes some nine hours later, Ren feels more refreshed than he has since Jakku. Hux groans, presses his face into the softness under Ren's chin and comes awake with a reluctant snap. Ren smiles at him, running his fingers up and down Hux's back.

"I could eat a rathtar," Hux says around a yawn. "Raw."

Ren kisses him. Hux smiles against his mouth. Ren's hands find his hips but they're interrupted by the door chime. Hux pulls away, brows drawing down. Ren feels nothing in the Force and waves a hand to allow the droids entry.

"Raw rathtar was not a listed option," he says as blandly as he can manage with a smile refusing to be suppressed.

"Dolt," Hux says, pushing away.

"I could order one," Ren offers and Hux rolls his eyes.

He throws back the covers, careless of his nakedness. Ren props himself on his elbows to admire him. Hux had disliked being so exposed before. He wore his robe to cross to the 'fresher, bundled himself in sheets before setting even a foot out of bed. Ren had never been able to break the habit; his admiration useless against the bitterness of years. He lets his admiration trickle through the connections that join their minds and wins a faint blush and a familiar glare as his reward.

"What is this?" Hux lifts the garment bag from the droid's grasp.

"Your old uniforms wouldn't have fitted," Ren rolls out of bed, "and we are meeting with the fools who call themselves High Command this shift."

"Ah." Hux hesitates, worry/trepidation threading his thoughts. "I suppose the-my armour was destroyed?"

Ren's rage fills the room for an instant. He controls it immediately. "No. Not that-that _thing_. Your uniform."

Relief floods Hux's mind. Nothing shows on his face. Ren finds he is pleased. Hux's composure hides nothing from Ren, only those unfortunate enough to lack a mental connection. He sets the garment bag aside in favour of the food, eating quickly and neatly. Ren joins him and the silence is companionable. It feels like Starkiller had; both of them preparing for the day ahead while drawing out their too-rare privacy.

Hux finishes first and lifts the garment bag from its hook as he passes into the 'fresher. Ren retrieves his own garments from the droid and dresses quickly. He can feel Hux's absent attention to his morning routine, the low contentment from shaving and slicking back his hair. He feels the moment Hux actually sees his new uniform. Confusion threads through uneasy and a fear rooted in the lost time.

"The droid's made a mistake," he calls through the door.

"Droids don't make mistakes," Ren says as he buckles his belt.

Hux emerges, holding his left wrist up. The five bands are each trimmed in a single line of gold stitches. "What do you call this?"

"Appropriate to your rank," Ren lets his lips curve, "Grand Marshal."

"I- _what_?" Hux stares at him. Nothing of the turbulence of his thoughts shows on his face but Ren reaches for his mind. Shock glosses over deeper insecurity and Ren's temper kindles again.

"You were never just a General," he steps into Hux's space, cups his cheek with a hand when Hux tries to look away. "You are the lynchpin of the Order. Snoke tried six different replacements. It took fifteen colonels to replace you in financials and logistics is still suffering a lag. Engineering is a shadow of what it was. Snoke did not have the intelligence or the wit to recognize your value. He was too afraid of you. I am not."

Hux blinks at him, lips parting.

"You are mine," Ren says, his certainty ringing through their bond. "There is no other in the Galaxy like you and together we are invincible. I want them to see. I want them to fear. I want them to know that they will kneel to us or we will destroy them."

Hux swallows. Ren kisses him and Hux's hand settles on his shoulder as his mouth opens.

 _We'll show them,_ Ren promises. _We'll show them all._

 _Yes_ , Hux thinks and kisses him back.

The door chimes and they break apart. Ren can feel Hux's frustration feeding his own. 

_Later._ Hux promises, dragging his teeth across Ren's lip as he draws back.

Ren sweeps his cloak over his shoulders as Hux fastens the last of his uniform's clasps. He looks every inch the Grand Marshal and Ren's heart thrills in his chest. The universe settles back into place as Hux pulls on his gloves. He draws his shoulders back and lifts his chin. Ren smiles at him once more before schooling his expression as the door opens.

Captain Phasma, immaculate in her highly polished armour, salutes. Behind her, six troopers salute in unison. Hux steps out and Ren feels the jolt that straightens their spines another two degrees. Shock and elation flood through their minds as Hux inspects them silently for a moment and pride sweeps through them at his slight nod.

"Carry on, Colonel."

"Yes, sir," Phasma says after a beat.

Ren inclines his head in answer to Hux's mental query. He has no objections to Phasma's promotion. Hux's smile is visible only in the faint crease at the edge of his eyes. Ren can feel the 'troopers standing taller.

Hux falls in with Ren, moving in perfect step. They sweep through the corridors, 'troopers, officers and technicians saluting as they pass. A few braver souls call out welcomes to their leaders. Ren soaks in the growing sense of pride and confidence spreading out from their progress.

It is surprisingly pleasant to feel Hux's impressions on the ship, a running tally of necessary corrections and improvements. Ren can feel him assembling rotas and planning maintenance. Ren feels the tension of the months without Hux leech from his muscles. His desire also stirs to life and he thinks that once this meeting is behind them, he will take his time becoming reacquainted with his Grand Marshal’s form. 

The 'troopers lining the corridor to the conference room snap to attention and Ren feels the barest flicker of apprehension from Hux. He knows these men. He hates them. He's been part of conferences that spark his temper just thinking about them. Ren reaches out through the Force, lightly squeezing Hux's hand.

 _We do this together,_ he thinks and Hux's chin comes up.

The door to the conference room slides open and Ren steps through. He feels all those hungry eyes latch onto him. It takes only a little effort to keep his expression empty. There is a moment of shock. None of the men standing at the table have ever seen his face. He feels the shock curdle into horror when Hux steps through on his heels. Ren moves to the head of the table and Hux takes the seat to Ren's right.

"Supreme Leader," Hux says, bowing his head. 

"Grand Marshal," Ren says, watching the badly concealed dismay ripple through the gathered officers. "Gentlemen."

He sits, Hux barely a heartbeat behind him and watches the other officers scramble for their seats. Pryde lingers for a moment by Hux's chair before displacing Brigadier Aftersenek with an angry gesture. The reshuffle takes a minute of so, all of it happening under Hux's sharp eyes. Ren suppresses the impulse to laugh. He catches Hux's eye and feels his amusement echo through their connection.

Pryde mutters something but quails to silence under Ren and Hux's considering stares. Ren can feel the balance in the room shifting, the junior officers watching the interplay. When Pryde sits, graceless and angry, no-one looks at him. All eyes are on the new Supreme Leader and his Grand Marshal.

Hux lets the silence draw taut before he speaks. "We are discussing strategies for the final elimination of the Resistance and the next stages of expansion. General Pryde, your report?"

Pryde's cheeks colour angrily but he pulls his data-pad to him and brings up the holo-display. Hux watches him with opaque eyes and Pryde trips over his words. Ren watches his Grand Marshal and does not bother to hide the pleased curl of his lips. The Galaxy is theirs.

It just doesn't know it yet.


End file.
